Wisdom
It was a night of early spring ,
The winter-sleep was scarcely broken;
Around us shadows and the wind
Listened for what was never spoken.
Though half a score of years were gone
Spring comes as sharply now as then---
But if we had it all to do
It would be done the same again.
It was a spring that never came;
But we have lived enough to know
That what we never have , remains ;
It is the things we have that go.
Sara Teasdale
Thanks for reading , "WHITFIELD"
